


You See Me

by Lemon_Peel



Category: Minecraft (Video Game)
Genre: Minecraft
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2021-03-19
Updated: 2021-03-19
Packaged: 2021-03-28 12:54:29
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,775
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/30139863
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Lemon_Peel/pseuds/Lemon_Peel
Summary: For Tommy, the line between the real world and the narrative—the script— he and his friends created seemed finite and definite. Yet when his sleeping mind plunges him deep into that reality they built in this fantastical world, coming face to face with the very character of himself he’d created, he comes to truly feel, hear, and see just how different of a person he could have become.
Comments: 4
Kudos: 10





	You See Me

Sun. Hot sun. In the groggy haze of his fatigue, the bright sunlight was the first sensation he recollected, pressing hot against his bare arms, legs, and face like an overheated weighted blanket—heavy and burning. 

A feeling of uneasiness flickered uncomfortably in his chest, like an unreachable itch. Something felt off about this. He didn’t remember going to bed this hot. 

Tommy’s eyelids fluttered open, and bright rays of white light scalded his vision. His whole body recoiled in pain and he snapped them shut, raising an arm to rub out the pain with the backs of his knuckles. Yet with every second passed saving his eyes came another furious beat in his chest, and another uneasy twitch. 

Something wasn’t right. 

He scrubbed his eyes with the back of his palms, one, two, three more times, pressing his fists hard against his skull. He ripped his fists off his face, leaving behind the rippling streaks of black and white against the edges of his vision. He lowered his lids a little, peering out little by little until the streaks of light retreated back.

As blurry as it was and dazed he felt, he could see something. Dark green blotches. All around him, Tall, with wide bases and jagged edges, extending far far above, and coming to some sort of faded point at the top. Yet above them, these shapes were highlighted by a blurry haze of color--a colorful palette of gold and blue, outlined by streaks of bright white. 

Tommy blinked a couple more times as the shapes came into focus, and he immediately recognized their texture. And smell. 

Pine trees. 

Thick, chocolate-colored trees towered high above him, their wooden arms fanning out above serrated leaves and needles. Bright sunlight spilled the sunlight down the stems, filtering in between the little holes and gaps in the leaves and dripping in gentle scattered dots of warm gold upon the forest floor. 

It was the first time he’d turned his gaze to the floor beneath him. A thin layer of fuzzy lime grass blanketed the ground beneath, curling around his back, legs, and fingers. 

Slowly, Tommy peeled his back off of the floor, wincing as his skin felt the air brush the layer of crusted dirt and scattered mushy grass blades that clung to his back. Cold and uncomfortable. He stretched a hand out and reached behind him, peeling the moist cloth off his back. It hung loosely, and he slightly cringed feeling the damp cloth still brush against his back. He just hoped that would dry later, dear god. 

With a large sigh, Tommy brushed his musty fingers off on his jeans and lifted his head to look around him. Hoping to find some clue where he was or what took him here. 

He swiveled his head around the forest clearing. One direction and then the next. 

Pine trees. Just trees. 

Trees to the left. Trees to the right. 

Dark green canopies expanded behind, in front, and around him, only filtering an opening above to let the light feast upon the forest floor, and upon him. 

He opened his mouth. 

“Hello?” he croaked out. His voice tired, pitched, and awkward.. 

He waited, but his silence was greeted with the rustling pine leaves above. 

He took a breath in. Breath out. Inhaled, then opened his mouth. 

“Anybody there?! At all?” 

He waited, but he didn’t know what to expect. 

It was just him, the trees and the sky. 

“Hello?”

It was just him and the trees. 

And he was completely alone. 

A sharp tinge of panic. 

“Mum?” He shouted out, a voice crack tinged his voice, “Dad?”

Something definitely wasn’t right. 

His fingernails punctured through the grass, digging deep into the spoil. Desperately, he racked his brain. For something. Anything. This wasn’t right. 

He hadn’t gone to bed like this. He hadn’t, right? Did he? 

He had to remember. Something that happened. Something he missed. Anything familiar. 

He rummaged through the empty halls within his head, like a blind man trying to find a lightswitch in a dark room. He stumbled through it, fumbled, fingers reaching and feeling for anything that could give a hint or clue for that lightswitch. A corner. A wall. Something that could lead him down the train of thought to the one key, the one way that could turn on the lights and bring everything to exposure. Yet he was tripping over his own feet trying to find it. It felt like he couldn’t even find the damn floor. 

Suddenly, like a little lighter flickering on the other side of the room, a little glimmer of a memory. A flash. A direction in the endless room. He scampered towards it, reaching towards it with fumbling greedy hands. 

It felt blurry and nonsensical in his head, but he remembered.

Remembered him. 

Tubbo. 

He and Tubbo were on call. Talking. 

Tubbo. Tubbo on discord. Discord call. Call. Talking. 

He asserted those words to himself, branding them firmly into his head with hot red iron. What else? Think. Think dammit. 

As he clasped his palms around that little ember of a memory, it grew and flickered in little flashes, familiar images, against the walls of his hazy brain. Second-long snapshots that he gripped before they could slip between his fingers. 

At first, they were just blurs of colors and vague shapes. Yet as he grasped those analogous forms of thought in his brain, they slowly compacted into discernable words and objects. Piece by piece, he started to build a picture. 

Talking. Discord. Desk chair. He was sitting at his desk chair. The monitor was glowing blue. Blue light on his skin, his chair, his carpet. It only glowed like that late at night. Late at light. 

An electronic blip. A chat message. The continuous scroll of the little purple names and black text, flickering upwards and upwards. 

Of course. He’d been streaming. He got somewhere. 

But what then? What after then?

Tommy rummaged through his memories, groggy recollections of the past. He called someone, right—who did he call?

Tommy placed a hand against his forehead, leaned back into the grass, and sighed, roughing his fingers through his dusty strands of hair. It wasn’t Wilbur—he just called him during the stream. He’d been streaming with Philza and Techno for most of the stream, it couldn’t have been them. It was Tubbo, right? That’s when the call happened?

So, he was streaming late at night, with Philza and Techno, then he signed off and called Tubbo for a bit. 

Hearing that revelation in his head, it brought him a breath of comfort. His mind allowed him to breathe. The uncomfortable knot in his stomach seemed to ease.

Now that he had a solid memory, he dug a little deeper around the edges. So he called Tubbo. They talked a bit, he didn’t remember. But they planned something. Something. A stream? Definitely a stream. Something about Tekkit. 

He smiled a little. Tubbo liked that. Him and his fuckin Tekkit, man. He never understood the game; he warned Tubbo exactly that, and Tubbo, of course, attempted to explain to him. But Tommy didn’t get it the first time. Nor the second time. Not even the most recent time. But Tubbo had been asking for a while, so he figured he’d try it once. They hadn’t had much time to talk together that week anyways. Besides, it was a fun idea to fuck around with.

As warmly reminiscent that memory was, a harsh ray of sunlight edged its way into his eyes, forcing him back to face his current situation—alone, dirty, and bruised on a forest floor. 

So what then? Why was he here?

He knew his call with Tubbo ended eventually. He remembered turning off his PC. Then he just-

Tommy stopped short.

He had-

His memory blanked. 

It was like a rock wall sprung up in front of his face, barring him from exploring that mental room further. He tried to dig around it, but it stood firm, immovable and impenetrable.

That was all he remembered.

So why was he here?

Tommy pushed himself off of the damp grass, steadying himself on his feet. He still was wearing his old sneakers. In fact, he was wearing a pair of jeans--light brown, and his classic red and white shirt. He knew damn well he didn’t fall asleep with these on. And knowing that didn’t help ease his confused mind any further. 

For a few moments, Tommy froze. He wasn’t even sure if he was supposed to leave this space. Was he supposed to lie here?

His eyes flickered around the expanse of dark green pines and emerald grass blades. Maybe he could see better now. Maybe he could find something-

Among the palette of greens and blues, his vision caught a foreign hue in the distance. Grey. Dark grey. It was quite a ways off, being only a blurry line of monochrome color in the distance, shielded by rows and rows of pines, but it was definitely there. He couldn’t tell what it was. He squinted...stone? Was that stone? It was hard to tell. But even from where he stood, it looked unnatural, un-tree-like, foreign and man-made. 

Warm hope fluttered within him. He picked up a foot forward. 

But a cold pang of reservation froze his feet to the dirt. 

Maybe this wasn’t a good idea. He had no idea where he was. 

But what were his options?

He hesitated. Pausing, he glanced over the sleepy, little grassy clearing before him, taking a mental picture in the brain to remember this. Remember where he woke up. One more moment. Then he closed his eyes, inhaled, straightened himself out, and started off in the direction of that landmark, leaving this little sunlit grassy patch behind him. 

Yet as he lifted his feet and set out towards that structure, step by step, his gaze still kept flickering behind him. And around him. Through the trees, narrowing at the gaps between the trunks and bushes. 

It was too quiet. 

Too alone. 

As peaceful and beautiful this scene was supposed to be, it felt like he was walking on pins and needles. 

Hell, what if he wasn’t supposed to be here? He could very well be pulling himself in danger. 

What if somebody didn’t want him to wake up? What if someone wished to do him worse? Like kidnap him or some shit?

This tangled string of messy thoughts curled tight around his head. But as he noticed his chest tighten, he ripped himself free from the mental web that threatened to ensnare him. Not now. Now, walk dammit.

He picked up the pace. The soft grass gently brushed his feet, step by step.

Something in his chest told him to go faster. He felt the air stirring around his hair, gently lifting the locks up from his head and filling his lungs with crisp, clean air. 

Yet even at this speed, the grey form seemed a mile in the distance. 

Impatient, he picked his feet up faster off the grass and broke into a quick stride. The air stirred all around him: through his hair, lifting his shirt and pulling it behind him. He was a dart, an arrow, cutting straight through the windy current towards that form in the distance, focused and determined. Fast legs. Sharp breath. 

He went until the stinging cut into his lungs and legs, drawing him to a slow, steady walk again. But the form in the distance was close enough, and now recognizable. It was a large wall--a conglomeration of grey rocks haphazardly cemented on top of each other, with mounds of dirt leaning against the wall. It towered several meters above him, easily triple his own height, spanning endlessly to his left and to his right. 

Curious, Tommy couldn’t help but wonder. He didn’t recognize it as anything familiar. It looked decayed, ancient, and deeply set into the natural wooded surroundings. Even in the wooded areas near his neighborhood, nothing he’d seen was this large. 

In fact, he’d never seen a wooded area this large around his neighborhood, especially this type of wooded area with these types of trees. 

Where the hell was he? 

A few moments later, and he was just a few feet away from this massive structure. It was simply a wall of impenetrable rock, with no visible entrance or door or opening to be seen. 

What now? 

Tommy surveyed the wall a little. There didn’t seem to be any footholds or anything obvious to climb. Just solid rock, with sharp bits of stone jutting out in scattered bits across the wall.

Getting a better look, he crept closer to the wall, stepping past a couple trees rooted in the ground against it. And hidden right behind one of those dark tree trunks, he spotted an idea. 

Those mounds of dirt around the wall. One in particular reached higher than the rest, rising in a gentle, weathered stairway slope from the floor to just below the lip of the wall’s crest. 

He considered for a moment. Maybe he could climb it? 

Fuck it. Why not?

Drawing in a breath, he stepped towards the dirt mound against the wall. He raised a foot and pressed his shoe against the first risen patch of dirt at the bottom, digging his heel into it to see if it would crumble underneath his weight. Yet the brush of his shoe gave no more than a tiny kick of dust from beneath. Solid and firmly-packed dirt. 

It could support his weight. Secure, he leaned forward and lifted his other shoe on top of the mount, reaching a hand to grip the wall and steady himself. With a sharp inhale and a short huff, he hoisted himself onto the dirt hill. 

Slightly stumbling, he took a moment to steady himself before straightening himself out and brushing his dirtied hands on his pants. He glanced up at the rest of the dirt stairwell. A little steep, but nothing unmanageable. 

Keeping himself low to the ground with bent knees, he edged his way up the hill, little step by little steep, skirting his sneakers gently on the dusty brown footholds beneath him. 

Panting. Grunting with effort. He kept glancing up towards the top, where the dirt kissed the wall’s head. Not much longer. Just a meter to go. 

Three more steps. Two more. 

He heaved himself over that last lump of dirt. His chest landed on the top with a thump, his arms flapping over next to it. 

He paused. He needed a moment to breathe. Then he pushed himself off the ground and looked up. 

He couldn’t believe what he saw. 

Spanning for hundreds and thousands of kilometers around him were long stretches of dark green pines. Rolling green plains pooled out in the beyond past those trees, with waves of soft tall grass quivering beneath the current of the passing wind, their thin blades sparkling and bathing bright against the golden sunlight. The familiar sunny golden circle rested shapely between a faraway range of mountain peaks--massive brown towers that rose beyond the thick blue clouds floating above. 

It was beautiful, and beautifully terrifying. 

He wasn’t in Britain. 

He was God-knows-where and he was completely alone.

His eyes darted around the greenery and landscape set below him, around him, and above him, searching desperately for something, anything else besides this godforsaken blasted rubble of a wall to indicate somewhere else he could go. Anywhere. Anything. 

What was he supposed to do now? 

He considered what to do. Should he go back and wait where he woke up? Maybe someone could come and get him. 

Yeah that seemed like the idea. 

Tommy swiveled his body around, reaching down a shoe to descend the dirt mound.

Suddenly, he heard a sound. 

A voice. 

He stopped. He perked up his head over the wall. 

It was quiet, but the syllables cut through the air in a familiarly human way. A mumbling that cut through the silence. 

Bright hope rose in his chest. 

“Hello?” He called out. 

The voice suddenly stopped. It all went quiet. 

Nervousness bubbled in his chest. Shit, he had no idea who this guy was. He could have something on him. Like a gun or knife or something. He had no idea what type of people he could be dealing with here. 

In painful silence, Tommy waited for a few seconds. Nothing. 

For a moment, he questioned if he heard it at all. But he took in a breath and spoke again, pushing a louder volume from his chest. 

“Hello? Is anyone there?” he shouted out. 

The voice called back. Faintly. 

“Hello?”

So he had heard it! It sounded like a guy. Definitely a british guy. He seemed familiar, but not enough to place a name to the voice. But god, if the guy shared the same homeland and same language, that was all he needed right now.

“Hello!” Tommy cried out. “I’m up here!” 

Tommy shouted, wildly waving his hand towards the treetops. He couldn’t see where the guy’s voice was coming from, but he hoped there was the slightest chance that the unseen person in question would be able to see it. 

“Hello!” Tommy shouted again, impatient and eager. 

“Coming!” they yelled back. 

Tommy fell quiet, sitting quietly perched upon the wall. Searching for any movement, any giveaway to his conversor. He heard a faint rustle of pine needle trees below, the gentle thump of a foot against the dirt, but his eyes could grab nothing for him to see. 

“Where the fuck are you?” the voice cut back. 

Tommy felt taken aback, hearing the bitter sharpness in the other’s tone, but he inhaled and tried brushing it aside. “Up here!” he called again. 

“Where- I can’t fuckin see you mate!” the guy retorted, “Just come down here. I can’t see shit through the trees,” 

“I’m on the wall!” 

“Well get down from the wall!” 

Tommy felt a frown form on his face. Rude fellow, wasn’t he. 

“Where do I get down from man?”

“What do you mean how- Just climb down it man!” 

“Alright alright!” he snapped back. 

Tommy leaned over the lip of the wall, glancing downwards, looking for any clue of what this guy wanted him to do. Did he  _ want _ him to break his legs? 

His eyes scanned the wall below him, left and right, then to the left and right again, and then he spotted it. He noticed a scattered line of jagged stones, trailing down the wall in an alternating pattern to the bottom. They looked deliberately placed. Maybe those were the footsteps? 

It looked like a steep fall. But what other options did he have? 

“Hurry up man!” the other shouted over again. 

“I’m coming, I’m coming! Jesus christ.” 

Slowly, he scooted his rear end towards the edge of the wall, his legs loosely dangling in the air. He took a look down, seeing the high fall, and a shiver ran through his body. He could fall. He could definitely fall. He could definitely break a wrist right now. 

With a sharp breath, he twisted his body around to face the wall. His chest hugged the stone, so close he could practically feel the sharp ridges digging into his shirt. His fingers curled around the lip of the wall, firmly gripping the gritty stone beneath his fingertips, and he swung his leg over towards the first stone platform. 

He strained with his reach, the tip of his shoe barely missing the top of the foothold. Once. Twice. For a moment, he feared he wouldn’t be able to touch it. But with relief, he felt his toe brush the rough surface of the stone top. He anchored it to the surface, lowered his heel on top of it, and he slowly, ever so carefully, started to press his weight against it. 

Luckily, it didn’t seem like it was budging anytime soon. And as he pressed more weight onto it, the more secure his balance seemed to become. So with gentle footwork and careful eyes, he lowered a hand from the top and raised his other foot towards the next footstep. Just one at a time. One at a time. 

Behind him, he heard the soft crunching of leaves, with gentle thumps against the ground. He knew the individual was near, but he didn’t dare raise his head from the wall to see who it was. Not yet. He was way too high to lose focus. Or lose balance. 

Another step. He was only a meter off the ground. It didn’t seem too far now. 

He could jump, right?

There were only a few more footsteps beneath him. He could do it. 

Tommy sucked in a breath, slowly unfurled his fingers from the stone footholds above, and let his body plummet through the air to the ground. 

The air rushed around him. He panicked. Was it too high? He braced his feet underneath him for impact. 

Luckily, it was only a slight thump against the floor. The impact ran through his feet with a harsh sting, but luckily amounting to nothing more than a temporary annoyance. 

Curling and uncurling the ache in his reddened fingers, he glanced around the forested area he had landed in. He immediately noted the tall, thick pines and dark trunks spread around him, identical to those inside the wall. But otherwise, nothing else. Anything past the pines was thrown into an indiscernible blurry shade. 

“Hello?” Tommy called out again into the dark, “Anyone there? I’m down now. I’m here.”  
At the sound of his voice, the familiar rustling started in the trees, just a little ways away from him. A faraway, faint mumbling just barely reached his attentive ears. 

“Jesus Christ, I’m coming. I’m coming.” the voice grumbled. 

“Where are you? I can’t see you” Tommy called out. 

“Right here.”

The rustling grew louder, a figure stirred in the dark shade, and the individual stepped out of the shade into the sunlight. 

Tommy immediately froze. 

So did he. 

In front of him, a tall scrawny, pale boy stood in front of him. A thick set of light brown jeans were strapped around his legs, with muddy black and white sneakers underneath. Resting on his torso was a dirtied red and white t-shirt, with the sleeves pulled up to his elbows. 

A dirty mat of blonde hair sat atop his head, furling in frizzy curls above a piercing, light blue gaze that stared, wide-eyed, back at his own. 

He was staring at himself. 

And he was staring right back. 

**Author's Note:**

> Thanks for reading! This is my first time posting and writing something like this for AO3, so please leave any comments or suggestions down below. I don't exactly have a plan on how many chapters I want this to be, but I'll keep you updated. Thanks again!


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